So, the issue is beyond doubt.  Iraqi TV has broadcast video of his final moments.  A screen capture is shown here.

Still, I'll bet that there'll be some nutjobs out there who will remain unconvinced.  They'll say that in this event arranged by the CIA the figure in the video was one of Saddam's many doubles; the corpse another (previously expired) double that they'd "prepared earlier". 

Elvis will have some company after all! 

Well, looks like the ol' turd has finally copped it. 

But at the moment these are just reports.  No photos of the corpse yet.  Lets hope some appear, and pronto, so the issues is completely beyond doubt.  Otherwise the myth that he was never executed will develop, and we'll forever be hearing reports of him flipping burgers at some roadhouse in the boondocks ... along with Elvis. 

There's nothing like a full-on celebrity slagging match.  And the one between comb-over condo-king Donald Trump and stumpy gorgon Rosie O'Donnell is certainly one of the more entertaining ones. 

Long may it rage! 

The domain name "sex.com" was a kind of unholy grail for a coupla dark knights.  They've been duking it out for yonks now.

It's truly fascinating, and still far from over. 

I'm sure you all know James Brown has kicked the bucket at 73.  But I doubt you know that he fathered a child at 68 (unless the kid referred to in the first paragraph of this story was not biologically his, of course ... which I doubt).

I tips me lid, James.  You really were a sex machine!

Most fluffy wuffies squander whatever cred they may have slowly but surely after being elected.  But Nancy Pelosi is different.  She's gonna do it even before her first day on the job with a grotesque four day egothon.

Just found a good illustration of how much things have changed in the former Soviet Union.  Pravda -- the one-time official enforcer of communist dogma -- has gone all tabloidy.  (Er, if it's the same paper, which I assume it is.)  Have a look at this story (and the whole site while you're there) and you'll see what I mean. 

Bit like The Sun, innit guv?

Down here in Oz we've had a comparable editorial about-face in one of our main chip-wrappers.  It went from being a fusty but admirable old publication to being more like what Pravda was in the past.  It doesn't just run stories about the Red Planet.  It is a red planet!

You know the one. 

When I see serial killer fillums, I sometimes think that the characterizations are kind of naff and over the top.  (You know, the cross-dressing, sado-masochism, trophy-taking, etc.)

But if this guy Steve Wright is the "Suffolk Strangler" then it shows that Hollywood often gets it right.  The bloke seems to have jumped right out of the pages of a slasher screenplay. 

Something I noticed when I returned to Perth early this year: rents had skyrocketed. 

Here's an example:  I came back here in 1998 after many years in Melbourne.  Saw a place in West Leedervile that was basically a box in a small block.  Had barely enough room to swing a rat.  If memory serves it was only $65 a week. 

Came back here in Januray 2006 after a few years in Sydders.  Saw an ad for a place in West Leedervile that was $140 per week.  When I walked past I realized it was the same joint.  They'd just tarted it up a tad and planted a few shrubs outside.  Can you believe it?

Here's some more info on this phenomenon. 

Soon after a shark attacked a surfer at Bells Beach two other dedicated "hellmen" had to be convinced by coppers not to venture into the waves again!

But why?

Maybe they'd just seen Babes in the Wood and wanted to die doing the thing they loved?

In Holland, it seems that nothing is sacred.  As this story says, the Dutch are always "pushing the televisual envelope" ... and, er, filling it with body fluids.

Apparently the whole genre of reality TV started there in the first place. (Endemol, which makes Big Brother, is a Dutch company.) Since the rest of the world's caught up with them, maybe they feel they've got to out-shock everyone just to stay ahead of the pack?

Taboo-busting is deemed courageous by those who do it.  But I think it's often the opposite: surrendering to the worst aspects of human nature.

Bob Dylan is more than a tad shat off about a recently completed flick.  So much so, that he's attempted to block its release. 

Dunno if his gripe's legit.  But I'd say that if Andy Warhol were still alive he'd easily win substantial damages for the way he's been portrayed in the same movie. 

I mean, they've put bloody Guy Pearce in the role.  What the hell were they thinking?

In a scene reminiscent of the great Martin Scorsese fillum The King of Comedy, Oliver Stone tried unsuccessfully to yuck it up at the British Comedy Awards with a line about the Ipswich serial killings.

Not only was Stone's comment a shocker; it was also odd that he was even there in the first place. He's never directed a comedy in his career, after all.  (Er, unless you include this.)

Still, if he does have comedic aspirations, he shouldn't worry.  His rapist wit could easily get him a gig writing "satire" for the ABC. 

While I agree with Kate Winslet's observation that ultra-slim celebs are bad role models -- some of these chicks have to run around the shower to get wet! -- I don't think that Winslet herself qualifies as an alternative role model.  She's barely even Rubenesque! 

If she piled on the pounds and looked more like the woman in this photo then I'd say her argument would have a tad more, er, weight. 

What is it with these flashbulb addicts?  It's like every time they get behind a wheel they're off their faces on booze, pills, dope or all three!

The latest high-profile airhead to be nabbed by the coppers is Nicole Richie.  She was given a sobriety test because people reported her driving in the wrong direction.

Amazing.  Still, she looks comparatively compos ed in her mugshot.  She's a little woozy, perhaps, but not completely cut. 

Unlike this guy -- whose name, Rip Torn, is highly appropriate under the circumstances.

Lindsay Lohan is quite clearly off with the pixies, inhabiting a bizarre paral lel universe.  But she's also unbelievably gorgeous.  I mean, look at those legs!

Inexplicably, I find that her precarious mental state makes her even more alluring.

Here's one for the conspiracy nuts:  Princess Diana's phone was bugged on the night she was killed -- by the US.

Umm-aaah!

Can you imagine a comic doing stuff like this on an Australian chat show?

How's this for full-on bizarre ...

A young actor called Mark Blanco died after falling from a balcony at a party in London.  He had recently been cast in a Dario Fo play titled Accidental Death of an Anarchist.  In the play, the character he was playing meets his maker in much the same way.

Still weirder, the smack-addled Babyshambles rocker Pete Doherty was present at the party.  There is talk that he may have been involved in the incident.  

Ol' Pete just loves trouble, doesn't he?  (And vice versa.) 

They say Lindsay Lohan is a wild child (and that's pretty accurate, 'cause she's only 20).  Well, after too many tequilas she's decided to address her addiction and joined AA. 

(I used to be a member of AA, too you know!  Er, but that was Actors Anonymous.  We'd all sit around and bitch about how nobody knew who we were.  Didn't get us any work.  But at least it made us feel better ...) 

There seems to be an epidemic of shockin' behaviour from Aussie hacks.  First it was Glenn Milne going spacko.  Now it's David Koch's turn.  (And he wasn't even pissed.) 

What's going on here?

It's official.  Heather "Blokeface" Mills is a fantasist:

Ruth Myers, a handwriting consultant who helps Scotland Yard in crime cases, has now analyzed Mills’ writing and insists that the animals’ rights activist is a "fantasist" who has a "tendency" to live in a "manufactured world." "Her writing shows she is a fantasist who lives in her own manufactured world. This woman has a tendency to live in a world of deception and has lost all sense of truthfulness," The Sun quoted Myers, as saying.

I'd say anyone who's an animal rights activist is a fantasist ...  Actually, the above description reminds me of someone a little closer to home. His blog clearly reveals that he "lives in a world of deception and has lost all sense of truthfulness". 

Give my regards to the pixies, Derek!

Whenever I watched Popeye cartoons I was always mystified by the fact that this fair skinned sailor who spent countless hours in the direct sunlight was completely free of melanomas.

Well, here's why.

He had another habit that we now know has many health benefits: he often ate Olive Oyl. 

Ahead of his time, that Popeye fella!

Upon seeing the infamous Glenn Milne dummy spit my first thought was that this was not caused by some professional disagreement but by a deeply personal one.

Knowing that one of the few things that will make an intelligent bloke go howling-at-the-moon mad is jealousy I thought: Was there a woman involved?  Had they both fallen for the same babe at some stage?

Way wrong, as it turned out.  Still, not completely and utterly wrong.  Clearly, the issue of perceived hypocrisy re shagging was at the, er, root of the outburst.

Freud was right: It's all about sex. 

There was this rumour that Pamela Anderson's cameo in the Borat fillum is what provoked the split between her and Kid Rock.  But it was actually to do with politics. 

See, I've just discovered that Rock loves nothing more than shooting critters while Pammie is a member of PETA, and a prominent anti-fur activist. 

Anti-fur, eh?  Who'd 've thunk it.  I thought the closest she'd ever been to taking that position was doing her bikini-line. 

You learn something new every day, don't you?

I found the now-notorious biffo at the Walkleys absolutely fascinating.   

Sure, it was comical, since Glenn Milne was clearly plastered -- and there was the height difference, of course.  Still, it revealed something about the journalism profession that you don't often see: it's intense, man!  Not unlike the pollies they spend so much time reporting on hacks are driven as much by ego and the lust for power as they are by the quest for truth.  And there's an enmity between them that can be truly frightening.

I've been a long-term denizen of Artsville (mainly as actor and comic) and I have never seen anything as full-on as last night.  About the worst you'll see there is one luvvie slapping another with a pair of soggy tights -- then breaking down in tears of contrition immediately afterwards. 

An event like the Milne-Mayne stoush reminds me that I'm just too much of a wuss to be an actual reporter.  I'm quite content being a smartarse blogger doin' some sit-down comedy, thanks very much!